Music to my Ears
by quip
Summary: Twenty-six: The domestication of Arietta the Beast. "You are the one who taught the human language to her." Arietta, Ion. Spoilers
1. Prelude: Luke, Tear

**AN: **A collection of music-themed drabbles. Happy holidays!

**Summary: **She can't remember when the love began.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Prelude- _a piece that precedes a more important movement _**

The first thing she remembers noticing when she first meets him is his eyes. And then his hair comes into the picture, and finally the other bits and pieces gather together making him complete.

She can't remember when the love began, or how it did. She just remembers that one day, the sun shined and the birds chirped and she woke up thinking, _I think I love him._

She remembers waiting for him to come back home, or maybe even more importantly, to her. She remembers how his face steadily faded from her memory in those years he was gone and how much it hurt trying to think of how he looked, how he acted, and how his voice sounded.

She remembers how, when he came back, his eyes were a little greener than she remembered, and his hair a little more red. She remembers thinking, _Ah, so that's what he looks like_.

But now, sitting side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder, and hand-in-hand, waiting for the sun to set and the moon to rise, she remembers just how much she missed him. She grips his hand tighter.

"What is it, Tear?" Luke asks lazily, lightly bumping her shoulder with his own.

"It's nothing." She smiles and rests her head against his arm. "I'm just glad you're back."

All she can think of now is how perfectly his fingers curled around her own, like pieces of a puzzle. She can't remember when it started, but here they were, together and in love.


	2. Adagio: Anise, Ion

**AN:** Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed and supported and inspired and all that good stuff. Eat, sleep, drink, play, live, love, and be merry. HAVE A WONDERFUL 2009!

**Summary:** The world is changing.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Adagio-**_** slowly and gracefully**_

"Look," the thirteen year-old cries, "look, it's raining!" She holds her palms out, feeling the drops of water fall from the cloudy gray skies above tickling her smooth olive skin. Her ivory-dark hair sticks to her face as she turns around to look at his reaction.

"That's strange," the young Fon Master mutters, closing his eyes and breathing in the hot and humid air deeply. "The Score didn't predict rain today."

A flash of light illuminates the afternoon sky quickly followed by a rumble of thunder quaking the ground beneath their feet. It's a soft platter at first, gradually increasing into a downpour of freshness. They're getting soaked clean. And they feel it in the electricity of the air; the world is changing.

"I know," she says.

His eyes flutter open and she smiles.


	3. Dissonance: Duke Fabre, Guy

**AN:** You know what I hate? Snow one day and rain the next. The magic just all... disappears. -sigh-

**Summary:** The monster in your closet doesn't exist.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Dissonance****- _an inharmonious or harsh sound_**

He never noticed how red the carpets were or how the curtains turned a certain shade when the sun came down. He never saw the longing looks on the sword hanging on the pillar or the lone light shining through the crack of the door in the servants' quarters at night.

He never saw the scratch marks on his bedroom door.

Sometimes he felt as though he smelled rusted steel and cold blood just before he goes to bed. Sometimes he dreamt of the feel of a sword against his throat and a threat so quiet it was almost a whisper. But when he wakes, he can't remember anything except a flash of blond, a streak of sapphire, and a look that could kill, but won't.

Maybe it was all just a coincidence that fit together too perfectly to think anything otherwise. Maybe it wasn't. But he's calm and quiet and waits for something to happen.

Duke Fabre is not afraid.


	4. Estinto: Arietta, Ion

**AN:** This little drabble's about the Original Ion and Arietta.

**Summary:** There's a limited number of times they can say goodbye. Here's to the last one.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Estinto- a_s soft and still as possible _**

He coughed. And coughed. And coughed. He couldn't stop.

"Ion," she asked, her voice as sweet and sad as she looked, "are you okay?" Her eyebrows furrowed with worry.

It was becoming harder and harder to hid his illness from her, and although he continued to hear the gentle protests from the Commandant, he wouldn't give up.

"Yes," he answered after he caught his breath, "I'm fine." She didn't seem to be convinced. He placed a cool hand on the top of her bubblegum-pink hair, soothing his pet. "You may leave, Arietta."

"Okay, Ion." She managed to smile, showing her sharp canine teeth. The worry lines on her sweet face eased a little, and her cheeks flushed a light rose at his touch. "I'll see you in the morning then, right?"

"Yes," he replied without a trace of bitterness in his tone, "Good night."

When the door closed softly shut, the Fon Master leaned back on his chair, closed his eyes, and exhaled. The pain in his chest had nothing to do with his illness.


	5. Pop: Asch, Noir

**AN:** This was written a pretty long time ago. Guy was originally going to be in this fic instead of Asch ('cause I like GuyNoir), but I guess it's pretty obvious why not. Nothing happened at the end, okay?

**Summary:** She's so sweet to him. Really. "Your eyes are beautiful."

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Pop- _of, relating to, or specializing in popular music; to burst open_**

"I've got some information for you, sweetheart."

The syrupy drawl in her voice makes his teeth ache, and he involuntarily shudders. The corners of her mouth twitch upward in amusement as she continues making chewing motions around her peppermint gum. She swirls a lock of candy apple between her slender fingers and strokes his cheek with her free hand.

"Honey, you've got beautiful eyes." She blows a small bubble and pops it under her tongue.

"The information," he snaps, "what is it?" She's several thousand miles too close for comfort, but that won't stop her. He's tired of this, he really is.

She pouts. "Aw. Don't be like that, cupcake." Her mouth is so close to him now that he could smell her mint-fresh breath. "We have so much _time_."


	6. Staccato: Guy, Noelle

**AN: **Guy's so OOC in this... -groans- Oh, and the extra at the end is just something that I wanted to include but somehow couldn't make it flow with the piece. Unofficial prompt was "spinning cloth". To those who celebrate, Happy (early) Asian New Year! xD

**Summary: **Her head's in the clouds and she never wants to come back down. She loves flying. Among other things.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Staccato- _characterized by performance in which the notes are abruptly disconnected_**

She wakes up to the sun shining into her eyes and her legs tangled in her sheets. Yawning profusely, she lazily glances at the clock sitting on her bedside table. At once, the blond pilot leaps out of bed and rummages through her cabinet drawers dressing quickly before rushing toward the Meeting Hall struggling into her jacket with a piece of toast in hand.

"I'm sorry I'm late!" Noelle bursts in jumping on one foot while fumbling to put on her boot for the other. He's dressed all ready to go, one hand on his hip and the other fiddling with the goggles on his head. "I know I agreed to another flying lesson but-"

"It's alright. I just got here." Guy says calmly. His smile's full of sunshine, and his sky-blue eyes look amused at her slightly hassled form.

She slips on her gloves hurriedly and ties her scarf around her neck a little too tightly. "It was just that I slept pretty late yesterday."

"It's fine. It's only two minutes after the agreed-"

She doesn't seem to have heard him because she continues, "And I forgot to set up my alarm."

"Don't think about it too-"

"But the Albiore needs a little tune-up before we- Mmmph!" Her near-panic state was put to a stop by a pair of arms around her slight frame and a pair of lips meeting hers. Her eyes widen with surprise and her already-accelerating heart pressure skyrockets, but she kisses him back.

"It's fine," he gasps out when they let go for air, " so just shut up." Her head is fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, but she places a finger on his lips shushing him and continues where they left off. She moans into his mouth, her fingers tangles in his sunny locks, and her scarf unravels from around her neck and falls to the ground but neither of them seem to care.

The world is spinning out of control, and she never wants it to stop.

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**Extra:**

"Hey Noelle, the Albiore's ready for-" The said pilot's brother stops in mid-sentence as he takes a look at his surroundings.

"I guess this can wait." Ginji says quietly to himself and softly closes the door.


	7. Lullaby: Asch, Natalia

**AN: **Wake up everybody! It's Groundhog Day (although we do get six more weeks of winter...)! What? You say I planned this story just for its celebration? Hahahaha, of course not... 8D

**Summary: **She was fighting a battle she had already lost. "You'll have to wake up someday, Princess."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Lullaby- _the act of singing a quiet song to lull a child to sleep_**

"Good morning, Princess."

The sound of his voice and the touch of his hand on her shoulder broke through her dreamy slumber, and she struggled to open her eyes. His face was a light peach blur surrounded by a fiery ring of crimson-red until her eyes became used to the brightness of the morning sun and his features sharpened.

A small smile tugged on his lips (a rare treat indeed), and he leaned forward and whispered into her ear hidden behind her tousled golden hair, "It's time to get up."

She groaned and threw the covers over her head, tightly wrapping the sheets around herself. He chuckled amusingly and lightly tapped the lump he supposed was Natalia's head.

A hand emerged from underneath the blankets and threw a pillow at him. He caught it effortlessly in both hands.

"Wake up already," he said a little exasperatedly.

She was fighting a battle she couldn't win. Finally deciding to surrender, she untangled herself, tossing the covers back, and gulped down a lungful of fresh air. The soft fabric of the blanket slipped off her shoulders as she lifted herself up. Natalia muffled her yawn with a clenched fist and stretched her arms out, curving her back into a graceful arc and curling her toes in and out.

"Good morning, Asch."


	8. Silence: Luke, Tear

**AN:**GOSH, the extra's longer than the actual drabble. This was the most difficult to write so far (and the shortest excluding the extra), but I like it. 8D I'm taking a little break to work on new fics and think up of ideas for this (it's so hard... ;_;). Please look foward to them~!

**Summary:** She started seeing him everywhere. "He isn't real, Tear. It's all in your mind."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Silence-_ absence of any sound or noise; stillness_**

"Tear," he breathes, his hot breath against her ear. "Tear, I'm not real." His voice is so faint, so quiet, that she had to bend closer just to hear him speak. The night is foggy and unclear and even the sound of the chirping crickets outshines him.

A lock of hair the color of sand falls loose onto the outline of her face. She brushes it back and looks at him and wonders vaguely why he looks so pale to her, so blurry, like he was fading from her line of vision.

"You're not?" she asks.

He smiles softly and leans in even further and whispers even softer, "_No_."

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**Extra:**

"You know," the pink puppeteer said slowly, carefully choosing her words, "what doesn't exist in the Score, _doesn't exist_." The thirteen year-old was sitting on a old-fashioned wooden chair, her fingers smoothing the fabric of the faded red cushion.

"But...I can see him," the melodist told her, peeking at the corner where Luke was crouched against; he noticed her looking at him and smiled faintly.

Anise glanced at the same corner. Nothing.

She looked back at Tear sadly with bright brown eyes full of wisdom beyond her years and gently touched a golden-framed photograph of the former Fon Master on her desk.

"But the thing is, just because you can see him, doesn't mean he's there."


	9. Canon: Asch, Sync

**AN: **I LOVE YOU GUYS! I know that I don't say this much (or at all, since I just re-read all previous chapters... Sorry 'bout that). And I just want to say to those who review, favorite, alert, and/or read: THANK YOU!!! So here's another Asch drabble. Enjoy. :D

**Summary: **Your stare is poisonous to me. "I think you have anger management problems."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Canon-**_ **a musical composition in which a melody in one part is imitated exactly at regular intervals**_

_Crash!_

The force of his punch caused cracks to form around his tightly clenched fist as it collided with the delicate glass. It reminded him of the translucent spider webs he often finds on the corners of the ceiling. His reflection shattered into pieces and collapsed onto the ground in a mockingly musical twinkle as he removed his fist. Asch glared at the pieces still stubbornly clinging onto the wooden frame as if he could scare them into falling.

He was bleeding. Bits and pieces cut sharply into his skin, the crimson liquid dripping onto the mirror reflecting his brilliant green eye. Asch disinterestedly observed his bloody knuckles as the sound of a door opening and closing echoed against the concrete walls.

"You know," Sync said snidely to his fellow God-General as he carefully avoided stepping on the mess, "breaking every mirror in the entire Cathedral might not put you in the sparkling spotlight in Moh's eyes." The tip of his mask pointed at Asch as he added in a tone that closely resembled happiness, "You _might_ just have to clean this up later."

But the height of his fun slightly fell when the subject of his entertainment finally looked at him without answering any of his taunts. Toxic-green eyes glowered at the younger boy, sending daggers his way, but Sync remained motionless, his face safely hidden behind his ornate mask.

When it became clear that he could not frighten the boy into leaving either, Asch looked down onto the shards of glass littered on the floor, his stare met by several dozen pairs of identical emerald eyes and matching blood-red hair. And then, to Sync's surprise, his steel-toed boots crushed them into powdered glass.

"Shut up," Asch growled as he wrenched open the door and slammed it behind him. Its sound disturbed the remaining pieces that were still hanging onto the frame, and finally they, too, fell.

Uncharacteristically, Sync followed his order and remained silent, his jade-green eyes hidden behind his mask as he stared at the glittering remains of the broken mirror.


	10. Duet: Jade, Nebilim

**AN: **I can't believe that it's already chapter ten! Now that my goal has been reached I am truly and unbelievably happy. To kick-off the new double-digit chapters, Jade finally makes his debut. I'm sorry that I failed; he's just too smart for me. I really wanted to include the Keterburg Quintet (Jade, Nebilim, Saphir, Peony, and Nephry), but it just didn't happen. Please enjoy the Duet instead.

**Summary: **He comes by every Loreleiday to pour his heart's content before her. She heals him every time. "Professor, I'm bleeding." "Yes Jade, I see it too."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Duet- _a musical composition written for two performers_**

She was making dinner when she heard the knock, the light sound of knuckles rapping against wood continued to ring in her ears as she left the pot to bubble and froth quietly. Bitter-cold air greeted her unceremoniously as she cracked open the door.

"Good evening, Professor." The young boy stood on her doormat seemingly indifferent to the blood staining both his jacket sleeve and her 'Welcome' mat and the freezing gusts of wind. His breaths came in puffs of warm vapor as he lifted his bloody arm and said flatly, "I hurt myself."

"Again?" Nebilim raised a thin eyebrow. She stepped aside to let him in and closed the door tightly to lock the frost outside. Her house smelt pleasantly of sweet burning wood and warm dinner.

"Children often unintentionally injure themselves," Jade replied curtly as he brushed snow off his shoulders.

"Someday when you become an old man, you won't be able to use that excuse anymore."

His expression was thoughtful. "Maybe."

She took his well-worn jacket from him and placed it over a chair by the crackling fire for it to dry (the blood would have to be scrubbed off later). When she returned, he was examining his open gash impassively. Nebilim grabbed his hand sternly, and he dropped it hastily by his side with a trace of a scowl on his face, but otherwise, completely calm.

She rolled up his sleeves delicately, exposing his bare skin to her watchful eyes. Her hands brushed lightly against the wound, the broken skin healing itself as she poured Seventh Fonons onto it. His unusually colored eyes flickered between curiosity and envy as he watched while she worked. He was just as attentive of her healing artes as before, if not more.

"Why don't you stay for dinner?" Nebilim suggested once she was done. His arm was healed, but pink and tender to touch. He nodded a little absent-mindedly, his genius mind still processing the new info he had gathered. The gears in his head were just as loud in her ears as his knock before.

She knew that she should be worried about him, the way he always comes by with some injury or another. She knew she shouldn't be encouraging this kind of behavior, that it might be the death of him, but although her instincts screamed of caution, she allows him to be, because she wants to know what this little boy is capable of.

He leaped gracefully from the chair on which he was sitting and walked over to the medicine cabinet. She kept the bandages and ointment on the third shelf, where she knew he would be able to reach. He may be tall for his age, but he was still a child.

The Professor took out two plates, and with a snap of her fingers, the simmering fire underneath the pot blew out. She placed a full plate of steaming rice before her pupil just as he finished wrapping his arm with a skillful combination of his teeth and hand.

"This is good," Jade said quietly, taking a bite of the curry. The Professor's eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing.

They both knew she was a horrible cook.


	11. Rubato: Anise, Ion, Jade

**AN: **For MilesTailsPrower-007. :-) I know you wanted an allegretto, but I felt that rubato fitted this more. I'll stop being selfish someday. =( But will you forgive me since I added Jade into the mix?

**Edit: **Added a few sentences, changed the summary, etc. Nothing special.

**Summary: **Can't break plastic.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Rubato- _subtle rhythmic manipulation in which certain tones are lengthened while others are shortened, or vice versa_**

There was a definite silence around the table as the Fon Master took a fake biscuit from the tray and pretended to butter it with a knife. Anise was humming happily as she poured 'tea' onto her cup, drinking as if there was something to drink with a single sophisticated pinky sticking out.

"More tea, Ion?" she offered sweetly, leaning across the table.

"Y-yes please," he stuttered politely, grateful to have something to do. Anise beamed and tipped the plastic teapot onto his cup. Nothing came out. He raised the empty cup to his lips and pretended to drink before setting it back down with a delicate 'clink' of plastic against plastic.

"Colonel?" Anise raised the teapot questioningly batting her eyes innocently toward the adult figure crammed into a small pink chair, which was so low that his knees were up to his shoulders. Ion looked away abashed from the obvious tension in the room.

Jade smiled blankly and pushed his glasses up so that the light momentarily obscured his eyes from her view.

"No thank you," he said evenly. "I've had more than enough." Anise's smile widened.

Ion could have sworn that there was lightning that passed from the look on their eyes, and he sincerely hoped that this little tea party would end soon.


	12. Compose: Lorelei, Yulia Jue

**AN: **Lightning has struck again. Let us hope that this storm will end the drought that is my mind. I, er, also wrote this in class(es) today; the lightning came at a bad time. ^^; Please note that Lorelei is referred to as male here for simplicity's sake.

**Summary: **She tries too hard sometimes. "Why couldn't I save her?"

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Compose- _to write, or put together, music; to calm, quiet down_**

It all started when her eyes became unfocused, dazed as if something else was holding her attention, and all was quiet for a few seconds. Then she snapped back to the present, grabbed an umbrella from the stand by the door, and rushed outside to the unrelenting rain without another sound.

"Where are you going, Yulia Jue?" Lorelei asked, gliding faithfully across the red-brick road behind her, while her shoes were splashed with mud and water. The Seventh Fonist didn't answer, her face frozen by cold and by fear.

But it didn't take long for Lorelei's question to be answered: Yulia stopped in front of a drenched box and slowly pried her fingers loose from the umbrella handle. It held steady for a moment, balancing itself on the space between her neck and shoulder before it fell on a puddle. Yulia was soaked to the bone within seconds, but she didn't seem to care.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she dropped to her knees and touched the cheek of the dead kitten. "I'm sorry I didn't make it in time."

Lorelei found himself dimmed by her sadness. He picked up the umbrella and shook it so that pitter-platter drops of water slid gently off the sloping sides.

"Yulia, we should go," he said softly, placing a warm hand on her shoulder.

She shook her head vigorously side-to-side. "I knew what was going to happen, Lorelei. Why couldn't I save her?"

"You'll catch a cold," he pleaded. And once again, she remained studdornly by the feline's side. Silent tears burned a trail down her face, easily mistakable for rain drops.

"Is there really only one path for the future?" she asked, digging her nails into the soft, wet cardboard of the box. "I'm a murderer, Lorelei. I killed her."

Lorelei crouched down and wrapped his arms around her small figure, rubbing the small of her back in small, soothing circles. "No, you're not," the sentience said firmly, a tiny voice of reason in her fog of thoughts. "You can't save everyone."

She blinked slowly and accepted the offered umbrella with a trembling hand, squeezing it until her knuckles turned white.

"No, I guess I can't," she said faintly and allowed him to lead her home.

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**Extra:**

When Yulia picked up her umbrella and a shovel and disappeared into the downpour of rain and fog an hour later, Lorelei didn't stop her.

He didn't look up when she returned either.


	13. Timbre: Legretta, Tear

**AN: **I always liked LegrettaVan romances. It's one of the most awkward pairings in the game, but it's kinda cute. ♥

**Summary: **Major Legretta, I think you're falling. "That's impossible."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Timbre- _the characteristic quality of a musical sound _**  
_(Timber- the call one makes when a tree is about to fall)_

"You've grown soft, Tear," Legretta said coldly, her disappointed eyes frozen at her former pupil's form.

Tear smiled gently and replied, "Maybe, but maybe it isn't as bad as you think."

She turned her head over her shoulder toward the red-headed replica behind her. He smiled warmly, extending his hand and catching hers, intertwining their fingers and bumping shoulders. They blushed like teenagers in love.

"I'm happy, Major Legretta," Tear continued, looking back at her teacher as the two of them walk into the sunset together. "Why don't you be, too?"

And then they were gone.

Legretta turned her head to look at the man, whom she had loved for the past several years, and noticed that he was polishing his sword of blood and rust, humming what sounded like a fonic hymn, so intent in his cleaning that he didn't even look up.

Shaking her head slowly, Legretta scoffed at her student's foolish words and muttered, "Impossible."

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**Extra:**

There may or may not have been a smile on her face when she went and sat by Van's side.


	14. Trumpet: Nephry, Peony

**AN: **This idea was from a very very long time ago, but I had such trouble with it that I just abandoned it until now. In the original piece Jade was in Nephry's place, but I think this worked out so much better~ Besides, wouldn't it be scary to eat medicine prescribed by Doctor Mambo?

**Summary: **His visit to Keterburg went something like this. "I think I'm dying, Nephry."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Trumpet- _a brass instrument with a powerful, penetrating tone_**

"I don't like the cold!" Peony whines, blowing his nose loudly. He pulls the covers closer to his head and hands her his crumpled, wet tissue. Nephry takes it in the smallest space possible between her thumb and index finger, with a slightly disgusted look on her face, and promptly tosses it into the trash, where a small, white mountain was growing.

"Then stop coming," she replies nonchalantly, wringing out a wet towel and placing it upon his burning forehead.

"But you won't come visit me!" he cries indignantly while trying to breath out of his nose.

He sneezes. She hands him a tissue. He blows. She sighs.

"I think I'm dying, Nephry," the Emperor sniffs, rubbing his sinuses in a vain attempt to unclog them. It doesn't work.

"Stop being so dramatic," she says dryly and plucks another tissue from the box beside his bed. "It's just a cold."


	15. Interval: Asch, Natalia

**AN: **Hello and welcome to the action-packed, drama-filled, and totally awesome fifteenth chapter of this fabulous collection (not really). I realize that I made Natalia too needy here and Asch too harsh, but it goes well with the theme here, right??? Prompt here was "cold hands".

**Summary: **She's trying to help and he's trying to protect her. There's no compromise.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Interval - _the distance between two pitches_**

The skies are darkening in favor of a storm, but there is no rain yet. The winds blow rhythmically against the leaves until they fall, each spinning and twirling to their own music, and the branches sway as if conducting their own secret symphony. The purple clouds show no sign of yielding, and the static crackles in the air.

The storm is inevitable, and the question now is not whether it will come or not, but when.

Acid-green eyes snap toward the sound of an opening door, and his right hand shifts instinctively toward the hilt of his blade. His muscles tense with the atmosphere. But a familiar sight breaks his paranoia, and he visibly relaxes- after a moment.

Natalia timidly cracks the door open an inch or two, a single lock of golden curls falling over her shoulder as she tilts her head inside. There is a rare tint of hesitation in her eyes, quite unlike her. When she enters the room and walks slowly toward him, he senses something unfamiliar is in the air and he is not sure of how to handle it. She's so close now that he could feel the warmth radiating from her body, that he could see the healthy glow of her unscarred skin by the soft candlelight.

As her hand cautiously moves toward him, he is motionless. His muscles tighten again but this time from a new danger: she's becoming too close.

"Asch, I can help you." Her arms slide across his shoulders slowly, wrapping themselves loosely around his neck. Breathing in his scent, she exhales, _"_Asch, _please_._"_

He doesn't move, allowing himself a moment of complete vulnerability, as if the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders, and he wishes, wishes that they could stay this way forever, that she could hold him for the rest of eternity. It's a wonderful moment, this feeling of being free from responsibility, but it all ends when he pulls himself away from her embrace. The warmth fades quickly.

He closes his eyes tightly and pretends he can't see her hurt expression through his thin eyelids.

"_No, you can't_," he replies forcefully, and the skies finally begin to pour.


	16. Classical: Arietta, Dist

**AN: **This sounded so much better in my head. What happened? ._.

**Summary: **She calls it finger food. He calls it disgusting. "Are you done with that?"

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Classical- _of, pertaining to, or constituting the formally and artistically more sophisticated and enduring types of music_**

There are grains of rice stuck on her face when she finally detaches the rice bowl from her face. Empty bowls are littered across the wooden table, outnumbering the dishes placed in front of the small, pink girl with sharp canine teeth. He's been watching her for a while now, wondering how she could breathe under all that food, and was finally at his wit's end.

His spoon clatters back into the bowl with a _'plop!'_, upsetting the soup so that drops of it rain down on the table. He stands up, restraining himself from whipping out a handkerchief from his sleeve and wiping up the mess. Much to his annoyance, she doesn't pay much attention to him except-

"Are you going to finish that?" she asks him while tearing the flesh off a chicken bone.

He frowns and adjusts his glasses, holding the lense between his thumb and index finger. "I've lost my appetite," he answers indignantly.

She smiles a little too sweetly for his taste when she snatches his bowl of chicken noodles and proceeds to _inhale it_. His eyes are focused on her slim figure in wonder before tearing them away in disgust. _Does she have no manners?_

She tosses a drumstick toward her griffin friend in between bites, which annoys the liger, considering that he was still gnawing at the steak she tossed at him a moment earlier. The griffin rustles his feathers happily as he expertly catches the drumstick with his beak.

A loud crunch echos throughout the room, and Dist tries his best not to wince.


	17. Natural: Jade, Nebilim

**AN:** Sorry for updating so late, but I've been going through some things that I would rather not...discuss openly at this time. I apologize for being so distant, but I will try my best to not let it affect my writing. For those generous and patient enough to read this little, humble collection of mine, thank you. Please continue to support me as you always have.

**Summary:** We were never human, always monsters. We can't be saved, we never tried to be. "What have I done?"

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

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**Natural- _a musical symbol which cancels a previous sharp or flat_**

She's sitting on her throne of ice when he enters, slender arms and legs swinging casually from each armrest and her silver hair falling free from her tan cheekbones. A twisted smile appears on her face when she hears his boots crunch against the red-splattered frost. He stops several feet away from her makeshift kingdom.

"Welcome back, Jade," she says in a singsongy voice, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes. A thin line of blood flows steadily from her elbow to her fingers, drops of crimson tainting the whiteness of freshly-fallen snow. White feathers flutter in the air as she beats her wings lazily.

"There have been... disappearances from Keterburg recently," he reports bluntly, making a pointed look at the neat, little puddle at the foot of her throne, "and I was wondering if you knew where they were."

Her fingers trace her chest dramatically, her fingertips brushing against the place where her heart would've been, if she were human, as she places a mockingly-surprised expression on her face. "I didn't think you thought of me that way," she drawls, catching his subtle hinting. "You wound me, Necromancer."

He doesn't blink, retorting, "If only."

Her eyelids lower dangerously as she loses her humor, abandoning the game when she realized she was the only player. Her lips purse tightly together as she swings her legs upright. Balancing her jaw on her knuckles, Nebilim glowers at her creator. How she hates his seriousness...

"What have I done wrong?" she whispers in question, licking her claws clean of blood. "I never asked to be born, little boy." There's a note of accusation in her voice that Jade can't help but notice. He calmly takes a hand out of his pocket, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and takes his time to speak:

"Well, neither have I."


	18. Treble Clef: Guy, Tear

**AN:** Prompted by "it hasn't rained in days". Well, it's been exactly a year today that I started _Music to my Ears _(and two months since my last update...), and I'm overjoyed at the progress I've made. Okay, so I didn't managed to get to 20 chapters like I originally planned, but due to unseen circumstances on my part, it was unavoidable. D: Lately, I've been feeling less unhappy and unmotivated, so this may result in more frequent updates. I have a few more ideas up my sleeves and a couple requests to finish, so I hope I'll be able to see you again in '10~

**Summary: **She is not as strong as everyone thinks. In the years between Eldrant and Tataroo Valley, she breaks.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

* * *

**Treble Clef- _a musical symbol locating the G above middle C; the highest pitch or range_**

"I don't understand," she whispers to him, kneeling against the dirt. She's surrounded by a ring of dying flowers, dying selenias, and speaks with this softness in her voice that he hasn't heard in a while, and it causes him to wince.

He does not speak, does not move. He's at a loss of words. It would have been easier if she was crying. He can't help her this way.

Then from out of nowhere, the wind picks up and tosses her hair around her shoulders, twisting and turning and leaving her back bare to him. She looks so fragile that Guy was afraid to touch her, in fear of her shattering into pieces.

The wind blows against the ground, upheaving a swirl of soil unprotected by the flowers' roots and ripping apart loose and brittle leaves, before it dies down. Her fingertips caress the wilting stems and falling petals. Even in the moonlight, they do not bloom.

And then finally, she turns to him with delicate, breakable blue eyes and says, "They're dying."

And the saddest thing is, Guy thinks as his hand magically finds its way to her shoulder and squeezes it in the most comforting way possible, is that she does not cry.


	19. Melody: Jade, Peony

**AN: **For lychee loving. I'm sorry I'm not funny. I wish I was. I really do. ._.

**Summary:** In which Jade metaphorically grows another limb. "Face it, she's become a part of you."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

* * *

**Melody- _a rhythmical succession of single tones producing a distinct musical phrase or idea_**

"Where's your third arm?" Peony casually asks him when he comes back from Daath. He scrapes some dirt from underneath his fingernails and flicks it to the ground.

Jade stares at him. His travelling cloak was not even half-way off yet, and here was his best friend (Jade inwardly cringes) asking about a nonexistent limb of his. Was this another one of his jokes...?

"May I arrange for a pair of capacity core spectacles for Your Majesty?" The Necromancer smiles politely.

The emperor looks at him in a condescending manner that Jade does not approve of, but nevertheless continues as if he did not make his comment.

"You know-" Peony looks up and down in search of something that would help convey his meaning to his callous right-hand man. Frustrated, he then attaches his left wrist to his forehead and flaps his hand up and down, as if it means something.

Silence.

And then, something clicks.

"Oh."

* * *

**Extra:**

Somewhere in Daath, Anise sneezes.

"Bless you," Ion wishes.


	20. Accent: Anise, Luke

**AN**: Luke and Tear are such soulmates. BD

**Summary:** Eat your vegetables. I made them with love.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

* * *

**Accent- _emphasis or prominence given to a note or chord, as by an increase in volume or extended duration_**

"This has carrots in it!" Luke whined, pointing at his stew. "I hate carrots."

"Stop acting like a kid," Anise chided indifferently, with wisdom far exceeding his seven years of experience. It wasn't as if she ever complained about food unless it was made by the royal pair, of course. But just to bug him, she placed a few more orange lumps into his bowl. They dropped like rocks, splattering a few drops around the table, before resurfacing. Neither of them moved to clean up the mess.

Luke glared as she batted her eyes cutely.

He crossed his arms, glaring at his bowl. "I thought Tear was going to cook tonight."

"We switched. Tear gets to wash Mieu tonight," Anise said with a touch of surprise, which was soon replaced with a Cheshire-cat smile and a look of pure evil. "But why do _you_ care?"

She watched with amusement as the scowl on his face instantly disappeared. He began to blush and turned his head sharply to avoid meeting her knowing eyes, fumbling with his napkin nervously and searching for an answer in its delicate folds. Ah, young love.

"Tear doesn't like carrots either..." Luke finally decided, while stealthily tossing vegetable chunks onto the ground.


	21. Romanticism: Guy, Natalia

**AN: **It was fun writing this. :* Happy Pi Day!

**Summary:** Softly and slowly, morning will come.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

* * *

**Romanticism- _a period from the early 19th century until the early 20th featuring pieces reflecting emotion and imagination rather than formal symmetry_**

The corners of the sky blush a light pink as the sun peeks almost childishly from behind the horizon. Slowly as it gains confidence, the dark blues and mauves turn merry with periwinkles, lavenders, and rose. Shadows grow long and light as the sun creeps toward the center, and the winds encouragingly push it forward as they blow against the lush, green leaves. Dew drops from grass strands and spider webs splatter gently against the dirt roads. A faraway bird tweets a dulcet song.

The sun blooms softly and slowly until it paints the sky the color of dawn.

Natalia wakes to the sun on her skin and the aroma of breakfast wafting over. Sun-spun blond hair and eyes as blue as the sky grin good-morning as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes and responds that yes, it was morning. Her nightgown is loose against her shoulders and goosebumps crawl across her arms and chest as her bedcovers fall, but she doesn't mind the loss of heat: it was a warm day.

Smiling, she lightly caresses the silver tray, placing her hands as close to his as she could without touching, and slides it almost selfishly away from his grasp and closer up her lap. Her fingers lightly comb through her golden hair, dishevelled from sleep, as happiness and hunger bubble in her stomach. How thoughtful...

"Breakfast in bed?" she teases, with her eyes sparkling and her smile wide. "I feel like such a princess."

Guy laughs and offers her a muffin in reply.


	22. Euphonious: Ion

**AN**: Set pre-game. The original Ion's the type of guy, I imagine, to bite off the heads of animal crackers, just for the heck of it. ._.

**Summary: **Sometimes, he even scares himself.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

* * *

**Euphonious- ****_pleasing or sweet in sound; smooth-sounding_**

It was nighttime when Ion came to visit. The basement was dark and dirty and the only light was from the moonlight filtered through the bars of the tiny window. After waiting a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, Ion descended the stone steps carefully and unlocked the cell door. Its rusted hinges squeaked open and he entered.

Small movement caught his eye.

"Do you know how to read?" Ion asked the corner of the cell gently.

By now, his eyes had completely adjusted to the dim lighting, and he could see the prisoner huddled on the ground next to the bed. It was as far away from the entrance as possible and almost completely hidden from sight. It was strange to look at himself, Ion thought. Apart from the empty eyes, matted hair, and ragged clothing, this creature actually _looked _like him. It was...creepy.

The replica was chained to the wall, heavy shackles weighing down its slender ankle in order to prevent it from running. (Not that it had anywhere to go, Ion almost snickered.) Devoid of any emotion, it donned a loose-fitting tunic made of rough, itchy material. Its eyes were gazing absently at Ion's feet, adorned with golden sandals and white stockings.

At the sound of the original's voice, it lifted its jaded eyes and stared. Ion suppressed a shiver as he noticed how vacant it eyes were. Minutes had passed, but right as Ion was about to repeat his question, it shook its head slowly side to side in response and curled into a tight ball in a vain attempt to block everything out.

Ion's lips twisted into something like a smile.

He took out from his pocket a small stone, which glistened softly in the faint moonlight, and set it on the gritty floor, several inches from its trembling foot. The chains clinked together as it scooted backward, as if it was afraid of something sinister, but Ion was patient. His fingers traced the pendant around his neck.

He kneeled down, not caring how his knees turned black from the dirty concrete, and leaned forward until he was inches from its face. (It blinked too often and tended to avoid eye contact. Ion made a note to tell Van later.) Pushing away the anger and bitterness, Ion bought forth all the kindness he could muster at this point of his life and half-whispered:

"Do you want to learn?"


	23. Violin: Guy, Natalia

**AN**: Done as a fic exchange with corrakun. :D

**Summary: **Wait, Natalia, are you sure you're not going to miss?

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

* * *

**Violin- ****_a bowed stringed instrument_**

When Natalia put an apple on his head and told him to hold still, Guy could not stop feeling that somehow this was all Jade's fault. The scheming colonel had planted this idea into the princess's mind and— _purposely_, Guy swore— left the fruit behind when he disappeared, and as usual, it was Guy's responsibility to "take care of it."

"Natalia, are you sure this is safe?" Guy asked, trying to make his knees to stop shaking.

"Don't worry. I'm a master in Lanvaldear-style archery!" Natalia exclaimed proudly from some twenty feet away, placing her hands on her hips in full confidence. It was hard to stop her in this state, and Guy would've placed his trust in her abilities if she did not suddenly decide to add brightly, "And I'm sure you're fast enough to avoid a direct hit."

He would hang his head in defeat if it weren't for the apple balancing on top of it.

Guy was about to weakly protest, when he looked at her. Humming slightly while putting on her archer gloves, her eyes were shining with such joy that Guy finally decided to shut his eyes and hope for the best. Her accuracy _was _a force to be reckoned with in the battlefield.

And then he saw what she took out of her pocket.

""W-Wait! Why are you putting on a blindfold?"


	24. Fiddle: Anise, Ion

**AN:**This time, it's a fic exchange with Sage! c:

**Summary:** Ion bakes a cake. It's not perfect but...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

* * *

**Fiddle- _to play a tune on the violin_**

"Am I doing this right, Anise?" Ion asks as he brushes hair out of his eyes with the back of his hand. He gently sets the icing tube aside and quietly marvels at his masterpiece while waiting for the puppeteer's response.

Squashed inside the tiny kitchen of the Tatlin residence, Anise looks up from her batch of cheagle-shaped cookies to find the Fon Master's face covered in blue frosting. She snorts in laughter and hands him a wet rag. He is appropriately confused until Anise moves her sugar-coated fingers across her own cheeks and says, "Right there."

When Ion asked her to help him bake a cake with that sweet look on his face, Anise could not refuse. It was a nice break from work and the fact that she could spend more time with the green-haired boy (teehee~) only pushed her into accepting wholeheartedly. Whatever his reasons were to suddenly wish to learn how to bake goods, Anise did not care.

But now that the eggs were cracked, the layers taken out, and the decoration finally done, Anise wished that she kept a better eye on him. Ion politely refused to let Anise touch any of the ingredients, opting instead for her to take a bystander's view and narrate the directions to him while he fumbled around in the small space. The kitchen was a mess.

Her eyes wander over to the sugary concoction and to her horror, she finds the single deformity to Ion's hard effort. In his waiting eyes and now spotless appearance, Anise could not find it in herself to point out that Mieu's nose was crooked.

She says yes, he's doing fine and inwardly cries herself to shame. Maybe next time, it'll be perfect.


	25. Dynamics: Ion, Luke, Tear

**AN:** Another drabble exchange with sagesoren/MilesTailsPrower-007! :D In celebration of the holidays and the two-year anniversary of this collection, a request post has been posted over at my lj (link is in my profile). For those who don't have lj accounts, anonymous commenting has also been enabled. Feel free to request as many as you want~ And have a safe and joyous holiday!

**Summary: **Luke just needs someone to cheer him up. Ion tries to help.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

* * *

**Dynamics- **_**the levels of sound in a piece of music**_

There was an annoying crick in his neck that would not go away. Luke groaned, rolling his shoulders, as he drained the noodles and randomly added sauce here and there. The monsters they ran into earlier that day were stronger and more numerous than usual and it had taken the combined forces of the whole team to just run away. It didn't help that they kept reappearing either.

Ion quietly set the dishes and passed around the forks. It was the least he could do, especially with the way Anise was complaining ("I'M HUNGRY DARNIT," she screamed, pounding the earth with her fists with a surprising amount of force).

"We can't even beat those _things_." Luke frowned. "How do we beat the God Generals?"

Jade-green eyes follow the swordsman's gait, noticing how his self-deprecating manner was resurfacing again. Ever since Luke had found out he was a replica, the confident, arrogant Luke was replaced by one that constantly downgraded himself with pessimistic views. Having finished setting things up, Ion sat down next to his flailing Guardian and pondered ways to cheer him up.

"We just have to work harder," Tear replied, adding more firewood to the burning centerpiece of their meal. The light and shadows from the fire danced across the contours of her face, casting a grim look in her eyes.

"Ion, what do you think?" Luke asked, completely ignoring the melodist. (Tear shot him a quiet, reprimanding look.) Luke moved around tenderly, sloppily distributing the food so that he could finally sit down. It was just his luck that it was his turn to cook that day.

Ion took one look at the soggy noodles that Luke had just placed in front of him and replied, "We could always just feed them your cooking."

* * *

**Extra:**

Natalia clapped her hands together, miraculously rejuvenated from their earlier battle, and positively sparkled, "That's actually not a bad idea!"

No one had the heart to tell the princess that her cooking wasn't any better.


	26. Suite: Arietta, Ion

**AN:** A fic exchange with Divine Wolfe. Based on the Ion Gaiden, but I took some artistic liberties as well. I actually really liked writing this one (even if it took me forever and a day to finish it). Wish I could expand on it a little. Contains slight stockholm syndrome.

**Summary: **The domestication of Arietta the Beast. "You are the one who taught the human language to her."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

* * *

**Suite- ****_an instrumental piece consisting of several shorter pieces_**

The room was a mess.

Papers torn from their respective covers were scattered across the floor and the door and walls bore deep lacerations in the shape of claws. Ion eyes the ripped curtains and overturned furniture with a calm demeanor. Perhaps he should have listened when they offered to lock her up in the dungeons and bind her limbs. She was surprising strong for someone of her size.

The object of his curiosity was crouched in the corner, panting like a beast and watching him closely for any suspicious movement. Tangled in her long pink hair, she looks at him with such ferocity in her eyes that he would not be surprised if she bit him again.

"Are you done yet?" Ion asks quietly.

He closes the scratched-up door and notices how she flinches at the sound of the slam. Her guard falters.

"My name is Ion," he continues, "and I would like to make you my Guardian." (But he really wants to make her his pet.) He makes full eye contact with the girl, never blinking or looking away, and focuses all of his attention to her with a expressionless smile on his face.

She shows no signs of understanding at first, having little to no knowledge of the human language, but she can comprehend that he was her only escape. She bows her head in defeat and looks at him with eyes that pleaded, _Please, let me out of here._ She struggles to speak with lips so accustomed to the language of the beasts:

"...I-Ion."

Ion only smiles and bends down to pat her head. "Yes, but you may call me Ion-sama."


End file.
